The Letter
by augiesannie
Summary: A bark of mirthless laughter from the Captain. "Love letters? I'm not the kind of man who writes love letters. Never was the type. Never will be." One-shot. Please R&R!


THE LETTER

"Children," the Captain announced. "Tomorrow morning, I shall be returning to Vienna." He put down the letter that had come in the morning mail and returned to his breakfast.

Groans and cries of disappointment filled the air. "Not again, Father!" "We thought you were here to stay!"

"Now, children," Maria frowned at Friedrich and shook her head warningly at Brigitta. "Your father is a busy man. Surely you can let the rest of the country have him for a day or two. And remember, we have the party to prepare for." She raised her eyebrows toward the younger girls, to remind them that their musical performance was a surprise for their father and his guests.

"How long will you be gone this time, Father?" asked Gretl.

"Not sure, Gretl, not sure. No more than a day or two. There are matters that require my attention, and – ah, that reminds me. Elsa?"

Baroness Schrader was lost in her own letters and didn't respond right away.

"Elsa!"

"Yes, Georg, I'm sorry. What is it?"

"I said, I've got to go back to Vienna for a day or two. That business deal with Kreiser. Would you like to ride along with me? I'm sure you're bored to death out here in the country by now."

Baroness Schrader sighed. "It would be lovely. But I've got a lot to do here to get ready for the party, Georg. It's only a week away. No, I'm afraid I'm stuck – I mean, I'm afraid ought to stay here. Not afraid, I mean, you know how much I like it here, really. So lovely and peaceful. No, you go on ahead. If I need you for any decisions about the party, I'll wire you."

"No, Elsa, no telegrams." The Captain's gaze flickered over to Liesl for a moment. "Telephone me if you need me."

His eyes met Maria's and they exchanged a quick smile. She loved these moments, when she was reminded of how far things had come with the von Trapp children and especially their stubborn, irritable father. More often, now, it seemed like they were working as a team. Every night, she thanked God for opening the Captain's heart to his children. The only problem was that lately, the Captain was following her into her dreams, where the two of them seemed to stand suspended, lost in each other's eyes, the way they had evening of the puppet show. She wondered if the dreams would ever go any farther, or-

"Fraulein Maria!" Kurt's voice interrupted Maria's thoughts, which was probably just as well. "Can we go on a picnic this afternoon?"

"If we can get our schoolwork done, absolutely. Go on now, everyone, let's get upstairs and get started." Nodding to the Captain, Maria rose and was following the noisy parade of young von Trapps out the door when she felt a tug on her skirt.

"Fraulein Maria. Can you tie my shoe for me?"

"What do you say, Gretl?"

"Please."

"Hm. I thought you were taking care of your own shoes these days, Gretl."

"It's too hard," the little girl whined. "Can't you do it for me?"

"Now, Gretl." Maria crouched down and smiled encouragingly. "You go ahead and try to do it yourself, and I'll be right here to coach you along." She bit back a smile at the earnest grimace of consternation on Gretl's face. "Take all the time you need. That's the way. Left over right, and then…"

From where she and Gretl had stopped just outside the dining room, Maria could hear Herr Detweiler continuing the conversation.

"Telephoning. Wiring. There's no romance in it at all!" he complained. "To listen to the two of you, anyone would think you're talking about business affairs, not…"

"Max," the Captain warned. "stay out of it. I don't hear Elsa complaining."

"That's because she's too much of a lady to raise a ruckus," Herr Detweiler went on. "Admit it, Elsa, you'd like nothing better than a love letter from Georg, now, wouldn't you?"

A bark of mirthless laughter from the Captain. "Love letters? I'm not the kind of man who writes love letters. Never was the type. Never will be."

"Oh, I don't know, Georg," Baroness Schrader said. "There's not a woman alive who wouldn't cherish a love letter. _Especially_ from a man who says he's not the type. It might be rather a nice surprise!"

The Captain laughed again. "No one would be more surprised than I, Elsa. Are the two of you finished? I need to get on with my day."

"I did it! Fraulein Maria, I did it!" Gretl crowed. "I tied my shoes!"

"That's wonderful, darling!" Maria complimented her. "Now you really are almost all grown up. Come, let's join the others." She hastily bundled her charge upstairs before anyone could come upon them and find her eavesdropping on the conversation between the Captain and his guests.

Several hours passed before Maria was satisfied that the day's school work was complete. Leaving Liesl and Friedrich in charge of getting everyone into their play clothes, she went downstairs to the kitchen to collect the picnic hamper. At one end of the room, two housemaids were huddled over a piece of paper, giggling.

"I'm so sorry," Frau Schmidt apologized. "With the party preparations, we've been shorthanded. Do you mind waiting a few minutes?"

"Not at all," Maria assured her, sitting down at the big work table to wait. Peter, the gardener, had joined the housemaids in some kind of dispute.

"I say it will be by the end of the summer," claimed Anna.

"I say not until Christmas. He's got her where he wants her, can't you see?" replied Miri.

"And I say it's never going to happen!" argued Peter, with a gruff laugh. He turned toward Maria. " What do you think, Fraulein?"

"About what?"

"The wedding. The Captain's, I mean. To Baroness Schrader . That's why they're having the party, isn't it? To announce their engagement."

Maria found the conversation curiously unsettling, but she forced herself to simply smile and shrug the question away. Sister Berthe might never have believed it, but Maria was conscious of the opportunity to be a role model for the younger girls on the household staff, who thought that because she had come from Nonnberg Abbey, she must be a paragon of virtue. So while Maria was by nature friendly to everyone at the villa, she did try to avoid gossip and other tempting habits unfitting for a nun-in-training.

Anna's voice broke into her thoughts. "I say it's August, and I can prove it," she proclaimed, waving a wrinkled sheet of paper under Peter's nose. "He's _dreaming_ about her, for heaven's sake!"

Although the paper was crumpled and dusty, Maria easily recognized the heavy ivory stationery and the spidery navy scrawl that filled the page. "Anna. What have you got there?"

"It's a letter. A love letter the Captain wrote to Baroness Schrader. I found it when I was emptying the wastebaskets. In his study," Anna confessed, at least pretending to be ashamed.

Maria put on her best stern-governess face. "Anna. You know you oughtn't…"

Just then, they heard Frau Schmidt's voice in the hallway. "Fraulein Maria. I've got your lunch hamper right here!"

Panic washed over Anna's face. Before Maria could say a word, the housemaid shoved the letter into Maria's hand and disappeared from the room. There was no time for Maria to do anything besides stuff the letter in her pocket, relieve Frau Schmidt of the picnic hamper, and go about her business.

The Captain's letter to Baroness Schrader burned a hole in Maria's pocket all afternoon, weighing her down as though it were a stone and not a single sheet of paper. She could practically hear them perched on her opposite shoulders: a devil taunting , "Aren't you the least bit curious?" while an angel demanded, "Throw that away! It's none of your business!" By the late afternoon, the devil won out. While the older children took the rowboat out and the younger ones splashed in the shallow water near the lake's edge, she sat beneath a tree. Pulling the letter from her pocket, she smoothed out the wrinkled paper against her lap and began to read.

* * *

><p>Dear One:<p>

This morning I heard myself say, "I'm not the kind of man who writes love letters." But strictly speaking, that's not true. I was that kind of man, until the one to whom I wrote those letters died, and with her, my heart died too. And so it took me quite some time to recognize it, to admit it to myself, but something happened when you came to stay under my roof this summer: my heart began to stir to life once more.

I've got a pile of medals tucked away somewhere, but I doubt I will ever be brave enough to tell you how I really feel about you. And could mere words possibly be enough to move the fierce and tender heart that I suspect hides beneath your demure exterior? There's a part of you that I can't quite get to, something you keep hidden away. You are like a mystery I want to solve.

Even if I had the chance, I'm not entirely sure what I'd tell you. That I'm in love with you? I want to be, desperately, but I'm not allowing myself to take the risk, not knowing whether, after the kind of lives we've each lived , and the way things have always been between us, you could possibly love me back. I'm sure that anyone seeing us together would be unable to see past the practical nature of our arrangement – I couldn't see it myself, at first - but now that my eyes are opened, I want so much more.

I know you might not see it in my behavior, or hear it in my voice, but I think about you constantly. Sometimes I believe I can remember every word you've ever said to me! And the music of your laughter follows me into my dreams at night. Occasionally, I catch you in an unguarded moment, see the flicker of something in the deep blue ocean of your eyes, and I can imagine the way it could be between us. The way you would feel in my arms, the way you would taste. I want to know every curve, every freckle, every shiver of your body. I want to know how to touch you.

These are dangerous times, and to fall in love seems foolish. Why take the risk, when the world is spinning out of control, when we appear doomed to disappear into a dark, evil void?

Why? Because for years, I've felt as though I've been sailing through a cold, foggy night. It wasn't only that I was lost and unable to reach my destination, it was that there was no destination worth reaching. I know how improbable it sounds, coming from a man like me, and meant for a woman like you, but when I look at you, I see the star that could guide me home.

* * *

><p>The letter ended abruptly, just like that.<p>

Her heart sinking, Maria stared at the page, although somehow, her eyes couldn't make sense of the words. This was good news, wasn't it? Ever since her first night at the villa, she had wished for the von Trapps to be a family again, seven children tended to by a loving mother and father. His letter to the Baroness was evidence that her wish was coming true. So why did Maria feel so miserable? Those silly dreams she'd been having … she took a deep breath, struggling for control over a dizzying churn of emotions, and shivered as the sun went behind a cloud, leaving the page on her lap in shadow.

"What have you got there?"

Maria looked up to find Captain von Trapp looming over her. It was his imposing presence, rather than a cloud, that blocked the sun.

Had he seen the letter? She hastily shoved it back into her pocket and forced herself to look up at him, trying her best to assume an innocent expression. "Nothing. Captain. Nothing. Something personal. Private."

He didn't reply, but simply stood over her, motionless, watching her intently. Everything around them faded away – the children's laughter, the splashing water, even the mountains and sky all around. There seemed to be nothing in the universe besides his eyes, holding hers for what felt like hours, his dark gaze intense but gentle, somehow, too, like a deep velvet caress she could feel everywhere. Her heart beat so loud she was sure he could hear it, but Maria forced herself not to look away until, at last, he released her with a flicker of amusement and a soft chuckle.

"Well then. I understand, Fraulein. I wouldn't want anyone prying into _my _personal affairs," he commented, dropping down easily to sit next to her. Suddenly, the rest of the world, the warm sunshine and the noise of it – returned.

"Was there something you wanted?' she asked evenly. '_My_ personal affairs,' he had said. Had she only imagined the emphasis? If he knew that she'd read his letter, still, he didn't seem angry at all.

"Well," he said carefully, looking out over the lake, " I was thinking, and I was wondering. The summer's almost over. Would you consider - I mean, is there any chance…" he fumbled uncharacteristically, "that you might change your mind?"

"Change my mind?"

"And stay on, I mean."

"Stay on? Here? But Captain, I thought…well, you're getting married, aren't you?" Trying to sound like she hadn't read the letter, she added, "I mean, that's what everyone is saying. Anyway, I'm sure the Baroness will make things _fine_ for you."

"Ah. Married. To Elsa. Is that what they're saying? And do you believe them?"

Maria could not make any sense of what he was asking. Obviously he was getting married, and to his guiding star, at that, the woman who would become mother to his children. Why would they need a governess? She stole a glance at his face, but he remained focused on the children, splashing noisily in the water. "I'm sorry, Captain. I shouldn't listen to gossip, I know. But it's doesn't matter. I'm supposed to return to Nonnberg at the end of the summer. I was on loan, you remember that, don't you? I have to go back."

Unexpectedly, he laughed, turning to face her. "But you're not a library book, Fraulein. Do you _want _to go back?"

Something caught in her throat. The doubts had pricked at her mind and heart for weeks, but until this moment, she hadn't quite let herself think about them. How was it that he knew her better than she knew herself?

"Well. Just something for you to consider." He rose gracefully, until he stood above her again. He had a curiously satisfied grin on his face, even though she hadn't answered his last question. "Fraulein. You do remember that I'm leaving for Vienna in the morning?"

"Yes, of course, Captain. And you'll be back in just a few days?"

Suddenly, he was crouching by her side, lithe as a jungle animal, and almost as threatening, although his voice was barely more than a whisper.

"Never forget this: I _always_ find my way back, Fraulein. I'm a sailor. I know how to find my way home."

Before Maria could summon a reply, he rose to his feet and strode back toward the villa, without a backward glance.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

She drifted in and out of sleep as he moved quietly around the room in the darkness of the winter morning.

At last, he returned to sit by her side. When she felt his solid weight settle on the mattress beside her, she reluctantly pushed the quilts aside and rose to kneel behind him. She wrapped her arms around him and curled against his back, warm and comforting against the room's chill.

"I wish you didn't have to go, Georg."

She felt the vibration of his quiet laugh. "Maria. I can hardly bear to leave you. I could spend the rest of my days in this bed with you and it wouldn't be enough. You know that. But I feel as though any assistance I can give them, well… and it's only a few days."

"Shhh," she comforted him. "I know. You wouldn't be the man I love if you weren't doing anything you can to help Austria. My hero. I just hope you'll be careful."

He turned to face her and pulled her into his lap. "You're the one who should be careful." He slid his hand over her barely swollen belly. "Are you sure you'll be all right?"

"I feel fine, Georg, stop fussing over me. You'd think you hadn't done this seven times before. Nothing's going to happen for months, you know that as well as I do! I'll just miss you, that's all."

"I'll try to stay in touch. Though I'm not reversing my ban on telegrams. I'll try to telephone if I can."

"You could write us a letter. The children loved the letters we sent from Paris, you know, even more than the calls, because they could read them over and over. And you've never written me a letter, you know, not a single one! What kind of husband has never written his wife a love letter?"

She could almost see a clever reply die on his lips as he stopped suddenly and gave her a curious look. "But I did, Maria. Write you a love letter. You know that."

"What are you talking about?"

"That letter. The one you were reading that day by the lake. The week before the party."

She'd destroyed that letter the same evening she'd read it, and hadn't thought of it in months. There were so many happy memories now, that it was easier to push away the sad memories of her seemingly unrequited love for her Captain: not only the way she'd felt when she read the letter, but the aftermath of the party, her abrupt departure and humiliating return to the villa.

"What are you talking about?" she repeated. "You wrote that letter to – well, you know. Baroness Schrader."

"But you're wrong," he insisted. "And you have to understand that, Maria. I felt that way about you – it seemed like from the start. I just had no idea you would ever love me back. "

"So you left your declaration of love for me to find in a wastebasket?" she teased.

"I thought – I thought it might be better to try and talk to you about it. I didn't want to scare you off. And I was right to worry about that. One dance, and you ran away! Anyway, you told me you were set on going back to Nonnberg."

The sound of a car horn interrupted them.

"My car's here. I've got to go," he apologized, kissing her cheek. He eased her off his lap and back under the covers before rising to leave.

Maria felt herself slide back into sleep. "Come back to me soon," she murmured drowsily.

He was halfway out the door when he muttered something under his breath.

"What's that, Georg?"

"You _have_ forgotten, haven't you?" There was a long pause before he cleared his throat , and repeated himself. "I will always find my way back to you. _ You_ are the star that guides me home, Maria. Never forget that."

And then he was gone.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

**Written with love and gratitude. Please read and review! I don't own anything about TSOM. **


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